


I Would Wish Me Only He

by Miss_L



Category: Coriolanus - Shakespeare
Genre: Babies, Bit of Fluff, But not too much I hope, M/M, Smut, they still manly men and all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-05
Updated: 2014-03-05
Packaged: 2018-01-14 16:05:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1272676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_L/pseuds/Miss_L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They could never be lovers. But for a few hours every night, they can pretend to be more than friendly enemies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Wish Me Only He

**Author's Note:**

> Mostly inspired by the amazing Donmar Warehouse production and the extraordinary actors that are Tom Hiddleston and Hadley Fraser (and everybody else - talk about a star cast!). All the credit, however, goes to the Bard. Because reasons.
> 
> Huge thanks to yourfriendlyneighborhoodanon for proofreading and being supportive and awesome :D

Martius was pliant under his rough soldier’s hands, responding to every caress and moaning like a wanton whore. It was not unbecoming of him, however, to lose himself in pleasure as he would in battle. They were equals here, under the night canopy, far away from their men. For a few hours every night, they could pretend to never have been mortal enemies who became death-dealing friends. They could claim one of them was not damned to die by the other’s hand – for their constellations had crossed before their births, and their shared fate was set long ago. On this cold ground, warmed by their bodies and claimed by their ardour, they could even pretend to be unspoken lovers. But the _day_ of the eternal night was nearing, and it weighed heavily on their spirits when they parted in the first rays of a new sun.

Aufidius looked down on his willing companion, wicked pleasure glistening on his visage in the dim light of the moon. Coriolanus – the Volscian commander would die before he used that stolen title, carved from the dead flesh of his countrymen and baptised in his cousins’ blood! And yet, even brought low by Aufidius’ affection thus, conquered not with a sword, but with kindness and affection, Martius still looked the victor, true to his name and stature. It had taken him what felt like an eternity of moons to soften the battle-hardened soldier under his touch, to make Martius forget himself in joint bliss. The Roman had been willing, but it seemed he had forgotten how to uncoil himself, how to allow another human into his heart and loins. Aufidius was proud and humbled to be the one to succeed at such a task. 

With a hand soft as the sea breeze off the shore of Antium, the Volscian general encased their valours, Martius accepting the touch like a man starved for food might throw himself on a crust of bread. Aufidius’ other hand travelled up the province of his companion’s body, taut as a bow ready to dispatch a deadly dart. He marvelled at the delicate, delicious noises his ministrations pulled from the fiery creation writhing underneath him. Soon, he was enraptured by his own pleasure, fighting to keep his eyes open and trained on his companion, awed by the rapidly alternating emotions displayed on his countenance. Desire, hesitation and shame at his own base longings, succeeded presently by perfect ecstasy. Aufidius’ restraint finally faltered and he followed his companion in discharge, as he would in combat.

Afterward, they lay together, limbs tangled, no longer certain where one’s mortal part ended and the other’s began. It was this moment that extorted the greatest tenderness from Aufidius’ heart. Martius, who had been dethroned and then remoulded – both by him, _him!_ – was perfectly at peace, now allowing himself to caress his Volscian general’s bearded visage like it was that of a fair maiden, luxuriating in their embrace. For a few scant hours, until the golden aurora gently stroked the sky and goaded them towards the endeavours of a new day, both soldiers could lie in repose, feeling impregnable in each other’s grasp. Aufudius would fight Morpheus’ touch as long as he could, committing his – yes, at this time of the night, he could dare to say, to himself, “lover” – his lover’s countenance to memory. Before he finally succumbed to slumber, the Volscian would feel a slight sting of doubt – perchance the next day would be their last, rupturing their fragile concord. Yet for now, they were whole.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little side-note, nothing pressing, but... I've always learned that, although Romans (as in: people of the Roman Empire) were comfortable with homosexuality, penetration (unmanning) of a free man was strictly forbidden (as opposed to slaves, actors, etc). On top of that, as much as I'd like those two to have happy butt-times, I can't imagine Coriolanus letting himself be "unmanned", nor do I believe he would allow himself to "humiliate" his host thus. Just my take on the things, obviously, but in case anybody was wondering why there was no buttsex... That's why ;)


End file.
